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Isaiah 42:3a
Isaiah 42:3a
A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.
We thought yesterday about how we often associate loudness with power. In a similar way, the world
often expects an effective leader to be somewhat ruthless, interested only in strength and achievement and dismissing the weak and needy. In Isaiah’s time, God’s
people were a tiny nation, helpless in comparison with the likes of Assyria, Bablyon and Egypt. Surely they needed God to send them a mighty, victorious king to lead them, like the great King David? Someone to bring them military
success, marking them out as a force to be reckoned with.
But God’s plan is different. He promises them a gentle, quiet leader who will protect life rather than destroy it. One who will value the weak and vulnerable rather than the strong and successful. I wonder if Isaiah’s first hearers struggled to get excited about the prospect - perhaps they’d have preferred a more-impressive sounding solution to their problems. Similarly today, those who preach a message of ‘health, wealth and happiness’ sound far more appealing than those who invite us to follow a crucified outcast.
If we like to think we are powerful and success, a gentle leader who keeps stopping to gather up the broken won’t be very attractive. We’d much rather live under a system that promises to reward our achievements and ignores those who don’t make the grade. But once we admit that we ourselves are weak and helpless, it’s a different
story. When we know that we’re more like a smouldering wick, barely flickering, than a blazing fire, ready to set the world alight, then we will welcome the one who breathes gently on us to sustain us, rather than snuffing us out. When we acknowledge that we are dead in sin we will long for a rescuer who helps the helpless, rather than one who rewards those who help themselves.
There will come a day when this servant will return in blazing glory to crush his enemies forever, but how gracious of him to come first in gentleness and humility, to heal and help and forgive. Let’s thank him for that today and come to him honestly, in all our frailty and need, trusting that he welcomes, not despises, those who
know that they are weak.
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By Cathy DaltonIsaiah 42:3a
A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out.
We thought yesterday about how we often associate loudness with power. In a similar way, the world
often expects an effective leader to be somewhat ruthless, interested only in strength and achievement and dismissing the weak and needy. In Isaiah’s time, God’s
people were a tiny nation, helpless in comparison with the likes of Assyria, Bablyon and Egypt. Surely they needed God to send them a mighty, victorious king to lead them, like the great King David? Someone to bring them military
success, marking them out as a force to be reckoned with.
But God’s plan is different. He promises them a gentle, quiet leader who will protect life rather than destroy it. One who will value the weak and vulnerable rather than the strong and successful. I wonder if Isaiah’s first hearers struggled to get excited about the prospect - perhaps they’d have preferred a more-impressive sounding solution to their problems. Similarly today, those who preach a message of ‘health, wealth and happiness’ sound far more appealing than those who invite us to follow a crucified outcast.
If we like to think we are powerful and success, a gentle leader who keeps stopping to gather up the broken won’t be very attractive. We’d much rather live under a system that promises to reward our achievements and ignores those who don’t make the grade. But once we admit that we ourselves are weak and helpless, it’s a different
story. When we know that we’re more like a smouldering wick, barely flickering, than a blazing fire, ready to set the world alight, then we will welcome the one who breathes gently on us to sustain us, rather than snuffing us out. When we acknowledge that we are dead in sin we will long for a rescuer who helps the helpless, rather than one who rewards those who help themselves.
There will come a day when this servant will return in blazing glory to crush his enemies forever, but how gracious of him to come first in gentleness and humility, to heal and help and forgive. Let’s thank him for that today and come to him honestly, in all our frailty and need, trusting that he welcomes, not despises, those who
know that they are weak.